AGENT
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24
Age
Hairdresser, pony breeder, and secret agent
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Koko
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Post by Feliks Łukasiewicz on Mar 22, 2014 21:02:18 GMT -8
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AGENT
Gay
Sexuality
24
Age
Hairdresser, pony breeder, and secret agent
Occupation
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Koko
Offline
Nov 27, 2017 14:56:13 GMT -8
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Post by Feliks Łukasiewicz on Mar 22, 2014 20:59:28 GMT -8
It was a pretty routine jaunt through London, the sort where you don't expect that anything will properly go wrong. After his hours working as a hairdresser had been cut as a "cost-saving measure," Feliks had filled a certain portion of his suddenly-freed time with such trips, ferrying sensitive documents or other small, important items which absolutely had to be physically moved from one location to another rather than emailed (though he rarely had any idea why that was) in an inconspicuous manner.
He was often seen trotting through the streets of London anyway, sometimes with assistance from a pony, though this time he was on foot. As an eccentric local, he expected no trouble and no one noticing anything out of the ordinary at all.
As he rounded a corner, he found himself on a narrow side street that was surprisingly empty except for a group of six young men about his own age or perhaps a bit younger. They looked rather irritated for some reason. Feliks tried to walk around them on his way, but they started spreading out across the street and--was that a knife?
A Polish curse dropped quietly from his tongue. Though he had some basic competence in hand-to-hand combat, Feliks was unarmed and of small build; he wasn't nearly good enough to singlehandedly fight off what he counted as at least ten guys, some armed and most bigger than himself. He could only hope for some good luck--that he was misunderstanding their purpose, for instance.
"Hand over your money," one of them--who appeared to be some kind of ringleader--ordered.
Nope. That particular kind of luck eluded him today. He was being mugged by common criminals--not even smooth criminals. But at least he could probably get away with the usual civilian's trick.
Rifling through the pockets of his jeans, he found a few coins and a five-pound banknote, and tossed that on the ground before himself. "That's all I've got," he informed them honestly, watching to see what they would do. Hopefully, they would either unblock the road so that he could get by, or at least stay where they were so that he could go take a different way.
Unfortunately, he wasn't so lucky. The dirty looks coming his way apparently were more than mere intimidation; he only had a split-second's warning before one of the knife-bearers lunged at him. Quickly, Feliks stepped out of the way--at least he was fast enough for that!
But they were all there in a gang for a reason, and he couldn't evade them all. He wasn't quite sure what it was that they wanted to hit him for, though the rather vile insults that he heard flying around seemed to imply that it had something to do with his lacking sufficient signs of masculinity.
When he finally managed to take off down the street, rather a longer period of time than he might have liked later, Feliks had been stabbed three times in the same leg, had his arms and head smashed into the asphalt, and had a chunk of his hair shortened. On the other hand, he had managed to throw one of the gang into a backflip that had apparently convinced the mugger not to return to the fray, gotten in a few mildly incapacitating punches and pokes (knowing where a person's pressure points were certainly helped with this), then finally stolen a knife off of one of the attackers, and used it to cut a few hands that tried to restrain him. He was running on pure adrenaline, and it carried him all the way down the street and back towards a more public venue. Discarding the knife in a gutter just before he reached the traveled road again--no need to alarm anyone with it--Feliks looked around to get his bearings. He was still on a mission, and obviously he was going to need a little assistance in completing it. Luckily, he realized, he was not too far away from the bakery where he knew he could get in touch with another agent.
"Not too far away" turned out to feel longer than it normally would since he had just taken a serious beating. The adrenaline was fading fast, to be replaced with a dreadful awareness of his injuries. His head hurt in multiple different ways, from impact and from blood loss and the shallow but burning feeling that he had been cut. Deep purple bruises were forming rapidly on his arms; the muscles of one of the legs he was trying to walk on had deep stab wounds in them; that feeling in his side might be a broken rib. Some people were looking at him, though more went about their city day as if there was nothing out of the ordinary about his condition at all.
Finally, he found himself at the door of the bakery, and staggered in.
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AGENT
Gay
Sexuality
24
Age
Hairdresser, pony breeder, and secret agent
Occupation
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Koko
Offline
Nov 27, 2017 14:56:13 GMT -8
GMT-5
Tag me @pole
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Post by Feliks Łukasiewicz on Feb 24, 2014 1:31:29 GMT -8
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AGENT
Gay
Sexuality
24
Age
Hairdresser, pony breeder, and secret agent
Occupation
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Koko
Offline
Nov 27, 2017 14:56:13 GMT -8
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Post by Feliks Łukasiewicz on Feb 24, 2014 1:31:02 GMT -8
Feliks had gotten a little bit lost, and he didn't have time to be lost. There were people in danger, far too many of them, and how many of them could they save?
One crisis averted: he heard Khenan--er, Agent Santiago--talking over his earpiece about having disarmed the bomb that had been found. Feliks disregarded the information about exactly how it had been dealt with: he needed to figure out which crisis needed his assistance next. The evacuation sounded important, obviously. So did the gravely ill Bondevik. At least he could disregard that one bomb that Khenan had taken care of, and the group with the girl who had been hit by the chandelier seemed to have at least gotten her out from under it. Meanwhile, the man dressed as a large black-and-white seabird whom he had seen a few minutes before went by, carrying a rather small child to safety. The fewer crises, the better, not that he could reasonably expect any shortage of crises in a situation like this.
As for crises Feliks could do something about...
A voice crackled in his earpiece: “This is Doctor Iliev. I'm at the entrance to the building; what's the status?”
Feliks spoke into his own microphone, lowering his voice to the register he used for trying to be taken seriously again. “Agent Łukasiewicz here. We're evacuating the building; Iliev, you'll be most useful where you are. There may be more bombs. As it stands, there are a lot of injuries that'll need treatment, but it won't do much good to treat them if the building falls before they can get out.”
As he spoke, the young man was navigating the floor, pointing frightened civilians towards the safest exits and looking for the other agents. Finally, he came upon two familiar faces just in time to hear Khenan ask where Agent Łukasiewicz was.
“Agent Łukasiewicz is right here,” Feliks informed the Jamaican dryly. “I need someone to come with me to the upper floors. There's some guy who needs a medicine I've never heard of to save his life. Anyone with me?”
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AGENT
Gay
Sexuality
24
Age
Hairdresser, pony breeder, and secret agent
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Koko
Offline
Nov 27, 2017 14:56:13 GMT -8
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Post by Feliks Łukasiewicz on Jan 22, 2014 10:26:35 GMT -8
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AGENT
Gay
Sexuality
24
Age
Hairdresser, pony breeder, and secret agent
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Koko
Offline
Nov 27, 2017 14:56:13 GMT -8
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Post by Feliks Łukasiewicz on Jan 22, 2014 10:24:48 GMT -8
"Infant holy, infant lowly/For his bed a cattle stall..." Feliks had always had a thing for Christmas carols, especially the ones he had heard growing up, and in his opinion the Christmas season was much too short for all the caroling he wanted to do. It was a precious thing to him; when he sang his favorite carols he could almost hear his parents' voices accompanying his own light tenor. "Cattle lowing, little knowing/Christ the babe is Lord of all!" He was attracting more than a few strange looks, skipping down the street towards his home a few turns away and singing a Christmas carol in January, but he didn't actually care. He was just in a very good mood today. "Swift are winging angels singing/Noëls ringing, tidings bringing/Christ the babe is Lord of all!" Maybe this wasn't the brightest idea, really, given that the respectable businessmen of the city were all emerging from their offices having ended their workday and staring at him as if he had gone mad. In fairness, they probably thought he had. It was a distinctive song he was singing, not generally the sort of music that one normally expected to hear in public—and especially not in January. Starting to feel slightly uncomfortable, though not nearly enough to stop singing, Feliks switched languages. "W żłobie leży! Któż pobieży/Kolędować małemu" That garnered a different type of odd looks, but it felt good to be singing in Polish, the language Feliks' parents had always preferred to speak at home. Sure, maybe they wouldn't have approved of him skipping down the street in a women's-style coat, singing loudly, with his hair flying in the wind like this, but he was always absolutely certain that they loved him no matter how out of the ordinary he was. "Jezusowi Chrystusowi/Dziś nam narodzonemu?" Nobody was approaching him, for some reason. That was interesting; sometimes people reacted to his singing by asking him to quiet down, but this time nobody seemed to dare. Was this song more intimidating than usual? He found the idea unlikely, given that it was about a baby and that was generally not an intimidating subject at all. But he often found that people reacted in unusual ways to other languages--sometimes with offense that someone would dare say or sing things they didn't understand, but sometimes with fear or awkwardness. The part of him that wanted to learn was intrigued by this phenomenon, since he himself found both reactions utterly baffling. "Pastuszkowie przybywajcie/Jemu wdzięcznie przygrywajcie/Jako Panu naszemu." As he finally reached the doorstep of his apartment building, Feliks decided that the first verse in each language was enough singing for the moment, though he was probably going to start up again shortly. He was on the point of letting himself in when he thought he felt eyes on him. With an air of curiosity about him, he looked either way down the street to see who else was about. Seeing nobody who raised his suspicions, he unlocked the door and entered the building, absentmindedly picking up in his carol where he had left off. "My zaś sami z piosneczkami..." ((OOC Note: Koko had waaaaaay too much fun writing this. And especially too much fun looking up two languages' worth of lyrics to a certain Christmas carol. Research addiction incoming!))
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AGENT
Gay
Sexuality
24
Age
Hairdresser, pony breeder, and secret agent
Occupation
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Koko
Offline
Nov 27, 2017 14:56:13 GMT -8
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Post by Feliks Łukasiewicz on Jan 18, 2014 14:57:19 GMT -8
I'm afraid I haven't got any other references as such, except descriptions...
But I'll be writing!
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AGENT
Gay
Sexuality
24
Age
Hairdresser, pony breeder, and secret agent
Occupation
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Koko
Offline
Nov 27, 2017 14:56:13 GMT -8
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Post by Feliks Łukasiewicz on Nov 20, 2013 13:34:38 GMT -8
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AGENT
Gay
Sexuality
24
Age
Hairdresser, pony breeder, and secret agent
Occupation
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Koko
Offline
Nov 27, 2017 14:56:13 GMT -8
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Post by Feliks Łukasiewicz on Nov 20, 2013 12:00:37 GMT -8
Liesel asked about Bondevik's current situation. Remembering what he had seen in his brief look around when he had spoken with the doctor, Feliks replied, "He didn't look too good. Very pale, and I think he was unconscious." That was usually a bad sign. If the young Bondevik had passed out, he was probably well into a crisis.
Fortunately, Liesel seemed convinced. She clearly didn't like leaving the situation here, but she just as clearly recognized that this matter was also urgent. That was one hurdle down, and however many more to go. "There's a doctor who can explain more," Feliks added, already walking in the general direction of the doctor in question, who was not too far away.
The air was still thick with dust and the aura of fear. Feliks could see a group working together to extricate a badly injured girl from underneath a chandelier. He could see that the girl was screaming, but he couldn't even tell that which screams were hers amidst the dull echoes of all the pained and frightened noises. As he walked, he lost sight of that group for a few moments. When he caught sight of them again, the girl was out from under the chandelier and one of the men from the group was talking with someone whom Feliks recognized as another agent. Come to think of it, he thought that several of those people looked familiar. Wasn't one of them his official boss for the job he was doing now, or something close to it? Maybe his boss' boss' boss? Of course important government officials would be at a party like this. It occurred to him that that might even be a good thing on some level, since there were so many agents responding now. The people responsible for them might be able to help coordinate a bit.
A renewed cry went up. There was another bomb on the stairs. Feliks wanted to do something about that--more explosions, that would be very bad, especially along the escape route--but he could only do one thing at a time. Another agent would take care of this problem--oh, good, Khenan was on it. Much like Feliks himself, the Jamaican was eccentric but competent. He would surely be able to accomplish what was needed.
The Polish agent put the second bomb out of his mind; he had his own immediately pressing task to deal with. There was someone to save immediately and a higher floor to sweep. He duly approached the doctor.
"Doctor. Here we are. What do we need to do?"
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AGENT
Gay
Sexuality
24
Age
Hairdresser, pony breeder, and secret agent
Occupation
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Koko
Offline
Nov 27, 2017 14:56:13 GMT -8
GMT-5
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Post by Feliks Łukasiewicz on Nov 9, 2013 10:52:13 GMT -8
WHAT IS THIS FAIRYTALE THING? WHY IS IT HILARIOUS?
AND YOU DREW ASTRIT. I LOVE YOU FOR THAT, ICY.
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AGENT
Gay
Sexuality
24
Age
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Koko
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Post by Feliks Łukasiewicz on Nov 7, 2013 17:29:52 GMT -8
{Misso's joy over a new installment of SNK becomes...}
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AGENT
Gay
Sexuality
24
Age
Hairdresser, pony breeder, and secret agent
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Koko
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Post by Feliks Łukasiewicz on Nov 7, 2013 1:01:14 GMT -8
I MADE A POLAND VIDEO. IT ISN'T PERFECT BUT I LOVE THE SONG AND THE SHIP TOO MUCH TO NOT SHARE THIS.
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AGENT
Gay
Sexuality
24
Age
Hairdresser, pony breeder, and secret agent
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Koko
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Post by Feliks Łukasiewicz on Oct 23, 2013 17:01:10 GMT -8
Manor of Fate got a random visitor on one mission and one only.
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AGENT
Gay
Sexuality
24
Age
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Koko
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Post by Feliks Łukasiewicz on Oct 22, 2013 17:02:44 GMT -8
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AGENT
Gay
Sexuality
24
Age
Hairdresser, pony breeder, and secret agent
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Koko
Offline
Nov 27, 2017 14:56:13 GMT -8
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Post by Feliks Łukasiewicz on Oct 22, 2013 17:01:17 GMT -8
So the woman was named Megumi Kudo. It was a nice name. That, together with how she addressed him, confirmed Feliks' suspicions that she was Japanese. He had never been addressed as "Feliksu-san" before.
One part of the decision was made, with the nice slippers that would have a long life. Megumi rushed about, putting most of the things back; she had apparently decided against getting those. Soon, only a few things were left: a long skirt that seemed rather flattering, a pair of sunglasses, and a bracelet.
"Ah, by the way, pardon me for being curious," the Japanese woman excused herself. Feliks waved it off with a smile of recognition; he was fairly curious himself, even if he did like to keep his own life rather private. "You look really familiar with fashion. Do you work for a clothing line? Pucci, maybe?"
Feliks laughed and shook his head. "I just like this stuff," he explained. "What looks good, what doesn't. Making decisions about that. It's fun figuring it out." It was entirely true. This was a hobby, nothing more; if she asked what his profession was, he would of course tell her that he was a hairstylist. Part of his mind was already planning to add something about honing his talents for figuring out what made people look good.
He now inspected the three remaining items. The skirt looked particularly nice; Megumi was handling it, and seemed to find it pleasant to the touch. But then again, that bracelet was lovely as well... Feliks checked the price tags as discreetly as he could. They were about the same price.
The sunglasses, meanwhile, looked a bit odd. Feliks picked them up and looked from them to Megumi's face with a critical eye. "You might want to pass on these," he suggested. "They don't seem to fit your face very well."
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